


Directions Mean Nothing in the Dark (Day Five - Patching Up Wounds)

by swampslip



Series: Charthur Week 2021 [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Marking, Come as Lube, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time, Frottage, Gay Virgin John, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Injury, M/M, Masturbation, Premature Ejaculation, Roll - Freeform, Sharing a Bed, Tent Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, chapter... 2 ish, lol, minor injury, oh yeah lmao, semi-established charthur, this is charthur with a side of bully john and men having feelings, two idiots and a sensible man in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28968021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swampslip/pseuds/swampslip
Summary: “Calm down,” Arthur mutters, “Just wanna sleep.”“I can move back-”“John,” Charles says quietly, then shuffles a little closer, “You’re fine.”John studies him carefully then glances at Charles’ arm.“It’s fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore,” Charles murmurs, “Just settle down.”John slowly reaches out for Charles and wraps his arm over the older man’s waist, leaning his head down against Charles’ shoulder.Arthur meets his eyes over John’s shoulder and Charles stares right back.They’ve been in this game for awhile, Arthur trying to act tough and Charles challenging him.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Series: Charthur Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117448
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49
Collections: Charthur Week 2021





	Directions Mean Nothing in the Dark (Day Five - Patching Up Wounds)

**Author's Note:**

> i... really intended this to go one way and it got away from me lol whoops   
> title from [Brave by Riley Pearce](https://open.spotify.com/track/5gqcOwKXxGTth8CUfN8woT?si=7B23S-mURpCx-X70YtTIWg)

“Charles?” Arthur gets to his feet when he notices the younger man breaking the treeline, holding his arm, “You hurt?”

Charles gives him a look that’s both wry and mocking Arthur for stating the obvious. 

“Shit,” Arthur mutters and sets down the sticks he was feeding into the campfire, “C’mere, lemme look.”

Charles lets himself be guided to sitting on a stump Arthur had dragged over to the fire pit, grimacing as he feels his arm twinging, blood warm and wet under his palm. 

“What the hell happened?” Arthur asks quietly as he helps Charles out of the shirt he’s wearing then moves to grab a canteen. 

“Whoever was here before,” Charles says then hisses when Arthur rinses the wound, “Set up some wire traps. First one snagged my arm, saw a couple more.”

“Guess they didn’t want visitors,” Arthur holds Charles’ arm steady, “S’not deep, let me grab some bandages.”

“Where’s John?” 

“He…” Arthur makes a face and gestures towards the river, “Went to try n’ catch somethin’… D’you think there are more over there?”

“Maybe,” Charles says, then looks down at his arm, “A lot of them were throat height.”

“Shit,” Arthur huffs, pulling a roll of bandages out of his bag and pressing his lips together, glancing in the direction John went. 

“This can wait,” Charles says quietly, “Go warn him.”

“I’ll be quick.”

“Be _careful_ , not quick,” Charles huffs and takes the bandages from Arthur. 

Arthur gets up and only makes it a couple steps before John is breaking the treeline as well, two decent fish strung up in his hand. 

Arthur makes it look like he was just grabbing the canteen again, coming back to sit next to Charles. 

“What happened to you?” John asks, brows furrowed in concern at the sight of blood-stained cloth and Charles’ slashed up arm. 

“There are traps in the woods,” Charles says then grits his teeth as Arthur rinses the wound again, “Arthur was just coming to warn you.”

Arthur mutters at him under his breath as he wraps the bandage around Charles’ arm but it’s worth the older man’s embarrassment to see the way John’s expression softens, looking at them. 

“You gon’ live?” John asks and they’re so starkly different in the way they deal with fear. 

Arthur moves to fix the problem that’s causing it, John will joke around the subject as he thinks it over. 

“Ask the nurse,” Charles tilts his head towards Arthur who huffs loudly and sits back. 

John laughs under his breath, a deep, rasping sound as he messes with the iron grate folded out over the fire and splays the gutted fish onto them, poking at the wood and coals to keep the flames going nearby and the heat hot enough to cook the fish. 

“Good catch,” Charles says because he knows Arthur won’t and John deserves to hear it. 

John's eyes lift to his and they’re a little surprised, a little wide. 

“Don’t go blowin’ hot air in his head,” Arthur mutters and ties off the bandages before stepping back to rinse his hands. 

John’s expression falls minutely before he lowers his gaze back to his task but Charles catches it. 

There’s a certain amount of hurt these two manage to deal to each other that no one else seems to be able to, except maybe Dutch. 

John doesn’t look back up as he pulls out their meager camp cooking pack and seasons the fish liberally. 

It almost makes Charles smile, because he knows how much John hates fish. 

Then he shifts his arm in the aim of getting up and hisses in pain, frowning down at the bandages. 

Arthur’s at his side instantly. 

“Easy,” Arthur murmurs, “Just stay put for now.”

“It’s not that-”

“Charles,” John says quietly across the fire and both older men glance at him in surprise, “Just let us take care of you.”

Arthur sits back a bit in surprise but nods when Charles glances at him. 

So Charles stays put on the stump, stretching out his legs and twiddling his thumbs, trying to not lift his injured arm. 

And Arthur boils some coffee, pours him a cup, John tending the fish until it’s crisp and tender and he brings some over to Charles on a tin plate. 

They don’t talk to each other, silently moving out of each other’s way rather than doing the other any favors. 

Charles watches it all curiously, his first real chance to observe John and Arthur together since it was just Arthur sitting at John’s bedside when the younger man was delirious with fever or unconscious with pain.

He remembers catching Arthur staring at John’s bloodied face like he was losing something special. 

He remembers John’s first steps out of his tent at Horseshoe Overlook and how he almost immediately asked after Arthur with the older man away from camp running errands. 

“Thanks,” Charles says quietly, gesturing with the plate. 

John lifts his head from picking at his own serving of fish and nods lightly, then drops his gaze again. 

In the end Arthur and Charles end up eating most of it, and John turns in early. 

Arthur pulls a flask out and takes a swig before handing it over. 

Charles sniffs and recoils a bit, the vapors sharp enough it almost gives him a headache. 

“The hell is that?” Charles asks, handing the flask back without partaking, eyeing it suspiciously. 

“Tub liquor,” Arthur says with a sly grin as he takes another swig, “Moonshine.”

“No thank you,” Charles mutters and Arthur just laughs softly. 

\--

“Move,” Arthur mumbles as he and Charles are climbing into the tent, nudging John in the ribs, until the younger man scoots further. 

John turns over and shuffles back until he’s pressed against the tent wall, pulling his blanket over his head and making himself small. 

Arthur visibly hesitates, frowning at John. 

Then he silently gestures Charles to get in the middle. 

So Charles estimates the space and puts himself square in the middle of their layered bedrolls, pulling his own blanket up to his waist and loosely linking his hands over his belly as Arthur brackets him in. 

The older man’s back is to him, a shotgun at the edge of the tent just in case whoever set those traps is still lurking around. 

“Goodnight,” Arthur mumbles, already sounding half-asleep and Charles echoes him. 

But he’s not particularly tired. 

He spends at least an hour staring at the insides of his eyelids before John shifts and brushes against his bandaged arm, making Charles flinch and stifle a sound of pain, opening his eyes. 

He can barely see John’s face in the dark but there’s enough light that he can see the younger man shuffling back and making himself small again, pressing against the tent canvas, just his eyes peeking out over the edge of the blanket. 

“Sorry,” John whispers.

“S’fine,” Charles says thickly, shifting his arm, “Just startled me really.”

John looks over him at Arthur then down at himself, trying to move back more, give the older men more space. 

“John,” Charles says quietly, “It’s fine.”

“Arthur didn’t want me comin’ with y’all anyway,” John mutters. 

“… I don’t mind,” Charles studies the younger man then turns onto his good side, facing Arthur’s back, “You can move closer.”

“I don’t wanna be-”

“ _John_.”

John makes a rough sound and shuffles closer until Charles feels the younger man’s blanket brushing the small of his back. 

“Kinda cold,” John mumbles, “Can’t fall asleep.”

“Really?” Charles hums softly, “I’m not that cold.”

“Yeah,” And he feels John shrugging behind him, shifting, “Arthur never is either. I always am.”

“… Are you asking for something?”

“… If it’s alright,” John says hoarsely, “I’ll try not to bump your arm ‘gain.”

Charles just hums his agreement and slowly John presses against his back, their socked feet brushing each other as John fidgets then settles, tentatively resting his forehead against the back of Charles’ shoulder. 

His fingertips are cool to the touch when his hand barely settles on Charles’ skin, over the older man’s waist. 

“Alright?” John whispers thickly. 

“I’m comfortable.”

“… Thank you.”

Charles hums again softly and settles down himself, finally starting to feel that pull towards falling asleep. 

\-- 

John’s squirming behind him wakes him back up just enough that he’s irritated by it.

“John,” Charles mumbles.

“Sorry- Cold,” John whispers.

“Just move-” Charles huffs, sleepily turning and grabbing John, lifting the younger man over himself and setting him back down on his other side between himself and Arthur, “There.”

John makes a wavering sound of indecision like he might protest then shuts up when Charles’ arm slings around him and pulls him close.

\--

When Charles wakes up he’s on his back again with John between him and Arthur, plastered to his side. 

Charles lifts his uninjured arm from behind the younger and frowns down at John’s face curiously, realizing he hasn’t moved much at all but John’s wedged into the minimal space between him and Arthur. 

“John?” Charles murmurs and John twitches in his sleep, mumbling unintelligibly. 

Charles looks over at Arthur but the older man’s back is still facing them. 

“John?” Charles whispers, lightly jostling the younger. 

“Mm?” John lifts his head from Charles’ chest, squinting at the older man. 

“… You alright?”

“What?” John mumbles and rubs at his eyes. 

“Why’d you move?” Charles taps John’s shoulder lightly and John’s brows furrow. 

“You moved me,” John says slowly, voice raspy with sleep, “I was still cold so you… Put me here.”

“Will you two pipe down?” Arthur grumbles and John tenses sharply, shoulders tightening and he shifts a little closer to Charles. 

Arthur turns over to squint at Charles over John’s head, propping himself up on his elbow. 

John pulls away and starts trying to move back over to the other side of Charles but Arthur stops him, grabbing him by the waist and shoving him back down between them, reaching down to yank up the blankets that have migrated down and tucking John in roughly. 

“Shut up, go to sleep,” Arthur says roughly and lays back down behind John, slinging his arm over the younger man’s waist. 

John’s completely stiff, staring at Charles with wide eyes. 

Charles quirks a brow at him and carefully turns on his side to face John. 

“You alright?” Charles whispers cause John looks panicked and John just drops his eyes down to Arthur’s arm holding him in place. 

When a few minutes pass and John doesn’t relax at all, still holding himself uncomfortably still, Arthur sighs loudly and squeezes the younger man and Charles watches John flinch. 

“Calm down,” Arthur mutters, “Just wanna sleep.”

“I can move back-”

“John,” Charles says quietly, then shuffles a little closer, “You’re fine.”

John studies him carefully then glances at Charles’ arm. 

“It’s fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore,” Charles murmurs, “Just settle down.”

John slowly reaches out for Charles and wraps his arm over the older man’s waist, leaning his head down against Charles’ shoulder. 

Arthur meets his eyes over John’s shoulder and Charles stares right back. 

They’ve been in this game for a while, Arthur trying to act tough and Charles challenging him. 

The apples of Arthur’s cheeks go ruddy and flushed and the older man breaks first, dropping his gaze down to John. 

Shifting his arm just a bit, laying down fully behind John. 

“Not tryna start anythin’, Johnny,” Arthur murmurs, “Sorry.”

Charles watches John’s cheeks flush as well and the younger man hides his face more firmly against Charles’ shoulder. 

Charles huffs a soft laugh, and John grumbles quietly, something about being teased. 

Arthur finally looks at him again and John’s burrowed down enough that they can see each other over the younger man. 

There’s a thrumming energy between the three of them that’s making it impossible to settle down again and Charles wonders if it’s just him for a moment, then he really looks at Arthur and sees just as much heat in the older man’s eyes as he feels in his own gut. 

Worked-up over next to nothing, just some casual intimacy and yet all three of them seem to be in the boat. 

Charles shifts forward just a bit and settles one hand on John’s hip, squeezing hard. 

John looks up at him slowly in question then back over his shoulder at Arthur. 

Arthur makes a small noise of indecision like John did earlier and the younger man turns more onto his back, frowning at both of them, confused. 

“John,” Charles says quietly, “You feeling warmed up yet?”

“… What?” John whispers but Charles can see the realization in John’s expression, the younger man glancing between him and Arthur.

“Johnny,” Arthur murmurs and his arm over John’s waist shifts, hand moving to rest on John’s belly through the layers of fabric, “You wanna?”

“Wanna what?” John asks hoarsely, “You messin’ with me?”

“Messing with you?” Charles asks and gently squeezes John’s hip again, his and Arthur’s arms crossed just a bit. 

“… This a joke?” John whispers, expression pinched, the skin around his pink scars creasing with how furrowed his brows are.

“… Don’t think so,” Charles says slowly, glancing at Arthur. 

“Not jokin’,” Arthur says and shifts a little closer, “If you wanna.”

John stares between both older men for a few seconds like he doesn’t believe them, then hesitantly nods. 

“Shit,” Arthur breathes out like it’s a relief and sits up, “How do you wanna-?”

“Depends on what you want, Arthur,” Charles says quietly, sitting up as well, quirking at brow, “You seem the most eager right now.”

Arthur makes a face at him then turns around and starts rummaging through his satchel, coming back with a tin of salve. 

John swallows loudly next to him, sitting up slowly. 

Charles glances at him sideways. 

“You been with a man, John?” 

John shakes his head silently. 

“Do you wanna?” Arthur asks hoarsely. 

“… Both of you?” John asks hesitantly, sounding nervous and Charles huffs softly, “I don’t- I’ve never…”

“You don’t gotta be the one takin’,” Arthur offers quietly, looks over at Charles, “I’m… I’m willin’.”

“We don’t have to go that far at all,” Charles says carefully, watching John chew on his lower lip. 

“Kinda wanna try,” John whispers, “… Maybe not this time.”

Arthur makes a soft noise at the thought and shuffles back over, leaning one hand on John’s thigh and tugging lightly at the younger man’s pants. 

“Get outta these, got an idea,” Arthur says thickly then turns to Charles and reaches for the closure of his pants, undoing the closures on both layers then tugging it all down and off when Charles lifts his hips, leaning back on his elbows. 

John’s very obviously trying to not stare, shoulders up to his ears as he quietly undresses. 

Sometimes it feels like no matter how grown he is he doesn’t compare to some of the men around him, but especially Charles and Arthur, as both older men are quickly naked and John’s fidgeting with the laces on his drawers. 

“If you don’t wanna…” Arthur says softly, trying to offer him a gentle out.

“Just don’t got much to offer,” John mutters, swallows, then tugs his drawers down and sets them with the rest of his clothes, feeling his ears burning as both of the older men are looking at him. 

Charles’ hand curls around his wrist and tugs him closer and John flusters as he’s pulled between them. 

“Have y’all-?” John asks thickly, “Been together?”

“Couple times,” Arthur murmurs and guides John into straddling Charles before easing himself behind the younger man, sitting lower on Charles’ thighs. 

The salve changes hands and John inhales sharply when he’s nudged forward and his cock brushes Charles’ belly. 

“We can keep it easy,” Charles says quietly, “Just hands.”

“Yeah,” John says, sounding a bit shaky and Arthur’s hands squeezing his hips doesn’t make him any steadier. 

But he looks down between them and tentatively wraps his thin fingers around Charles’ cock. 

Charles takes a deep breath and lets it out as a soft groan, Arthur resting his lips on the back on John’s shoulder and watching, rubbing his thumbs soothingly over the backs of John’s hips.

“Mm,” Charles moves one hand to squeeze John’s thigh, his lips parting as the younger man slowly starts stroking him, “ _Ah_ … John.”

Arthur snorts softly next to John’s ear and John startles just a bit, lifting his head and leaning slightly to the side to look at both older men. 

“Forget how noisy he gets,” Arthur says in explanation, nodding at Charles who huffs. 

“Shut up,” Charles mutters and rubs up John’s thigh, “Come here, John.”

John lets himself be guided closer and Charles’ other hand fumbles with the tin of salve to open it. 

Getting his fingers coated and helping John line up before he lifts John’s cock and presses their lengths together, slicking the salve over both of them. 

John makes a shaky noise and leans back slightly, lifting his arm to muffle himself with the back of his wrist, his back against Arthur’s chest.

“Good?” Arthur whispers and presses his mouth to the side of John’s throat, moving his hands up John’s belly and chest. 

John nods weakly and reaches back, fumbling behind himself, trying to get a hand around Arthur’s cock. 

“Shh,” Arthur grabs his hand and squeezes it, “Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

“Is this why you didn’t want me comin’ with you?” John asks hoarsely, “You were anglin’ for time alone?”

“… We’re not exactly unhappy with you being here,” Charles says quietly and rubs his thumb over the head of John’s cock, slowly, until pre-come is beading and he can swipe it around John’s foreskin with his thumb, making the younger man squirm. 

“Shit,” John whimpers and his hips twitch into the touch, “Christ, that…”

“You been with anyone?” Arthur asks quietly, “Other than Abigail?”

John shakes his head minutely and leans against Arthur harder, his back arching as Charles keeps toying with him. 

Barely able to muffle his soft noises, squeezing Arthur’s hand. 

“Close?” Arthur whispers, combing John’s hair back from the scarred side of his face, John barely flinching away. 

John starts to shake his head then nods, urgently grabbing Charles’ wrist and stopping the hand on his cock. 

Charles laughs softly and Arthur leans around him to kiss Charles lightly over John’s shoulder. 

John makes a shaky sound and curls in on himself a bit, dropping his forehead to Charles’ shoulder, reaching down with the hand not tangled with Arthur’s, squeezing the base of his cock. 

“C’mon, Johnny,” Arthur says when he pulls back, “Don’t be shy.”

John makes another weak sound and turns a bit to the side in Charles' lap, letting himself fall off onto his ass next to Charles, looking up at the older men, breathing unsteadily through parted lips, eyes hazy. 

Arthur’s expression smooths in surprise at the sheer want and need in John’s eyes, glancing at Charles. 

Charles slides a hand around John’s back and settles the other on the thigh stretched over his lap, squeezing. 

John sucks on his teeth for a moment and looks up at Charles then Arthur with a pleading expression, keeping a choke on the base of his cock. 

“You can come,” Charles says quietly, “You don’t need permission.”

“Shit,” John whispers and bows his head, shoulders lifting as he barely strokes himself, leaning against Charles’ shoulder and muffling small whimpers as he starts to come, pressing his cock down against his thigh, spilling and making a mess of himself. 

“Jesus,” Arthur says quietly after a moment passes. 

“Sorry,” John says thickly, “Too fast…”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine,” Arthur whispers, shifting as his own cock aches and drips. 

John pulls his leg off of Charles’ lap and presses his lips together tightly, face burning. 

“… It’s alright, John,” Arthur says gently. 

“I can… I can go, uh-” John whispers, “… Go.”

“Arthur, lay down,” Charles murmurs and moves out of the way, “John, you too.”

Arthur slips into the space Charles was sitting and lays on his back on the bedroll, John joining him after a moment of hesitation, hand and thigh uncomfortably coated with come. 

Swallowing, looking up at Charles for further direction. 

Charles lowers himself to lay between Arthur’s leg, pulling his hair over one shoulder and steadying the older man’s cock. 

“Kiss him,” Charles says quietly, nodding at Arthur and holding John’s gaze for a moment before taking the head of Arthur’s cock into his mouth. 

Arthur groans softly and settles into the bedroll, turning to look at John who still looks embarrassed. 

John squirms then looks at Arthur questioningly. 

“You don’t have to do anythin’,” Arthur murmurs. 

John studies him for a moment then turns and presses their lips together. 

A little rough, a little off-center, John kisses him like he’s trying to prove a point. 

Arthur chuckles softly against the younger man’s mouth then groans louder when Charles starts bobbing his head. 

John presses a little harder, sitting up a bit and moving his clean hand to Arthur’s chest. 

The older man’s fingers tangle in his hair and keep him close, slowing him down and guiding him how he wants. 

Kissing deep, savoring, until John feels light-headed.

Arthur moans against his lips and John makes a rough sound when his cock gives a feeble twitch, pulling back, looking down at Charles who’s looking up at them, Arthur’s cock dipping into his throat. 

“God, Charles,” John whispers and watches Arthur as the older man’s back arches up off the bedroll and Arthur’s hands move down to cup either side of Charles’ face. 

And John just watches, almost mesmerized by how perfectly the older men move together, Charles pulling off, teasing his tongue over the head of Arthur’s cock. 

Arthur rubbing his thumb over the ridge of Charles’ cheek and letting slip soft noises of pleasure, unabashed. 

John’s flushed just being a voyeur in this moment, as he watches Arthur’s expression pinch, body going taught, hips lightly pushing up into Charles’ mouth. 

Then Arthur sinks in the bedrolls with a whispered curse and John watches the way Arthur pets a knuckle over the scars on Charles’ eyebrow, letting the younger man ease off of him, just a few drops of come spilling other Charles’ lower lip. 

Charles sits back, wiping his mouth with his thumb and staring at the two of them heatedly, cock hard between his thighs. 

He shuffles close and sits in front of John as Arthur folds an arm behind his head and takes his turn just watching. 

As John’s chin is lifted with gentle fingers and Charles kisses him softly. 

John closes his eyes tightly and reaches blindly with his come-covered fingers, wrapping his hand around Charles' cock again and squeezing lightly. 

Charles groans against his lips and John startles just a bit, feeling one of Arthur’s hands trailing over his back, stroking down his spine and petting over his hip. 

He twists his wrist around to get a better grip on Charles and starts to slick his own come over the older man’s length, gut warming at the full realization of what he’s doing. 

“John,” Charles whispers against his lips, hands moving to John’s waist, squeezing the smallest part of him, “Shit… Faster.”

John swallows hard and leans closer, copying what Arthur did to him and kissing Charles slow and deep even while he speeds up his hand. 

Charles’ hands flex on his waist and the older man keeps groaning lowly into their kiss before he pulls back with a thin sound, looking down as his cock jerks in John’s hand and his come spills over the younger man’s fist. 

John gently strokes him through it then stills his hand at the base, looking at Charles then Arthur, a little doe-eyed at the whole thing. 

Arthur huffs softly and sits up with a grunt, reaching around for a couple handkerchiefs from their packs and tossing one at each of them, flopping back onto the bedrolls. 

“Christ,” John whispers and pulls his hand away, grabbing one of the handkerchiefs and trying to wipe off his hand, cock, thigh, watching Charles do the same. 

When he’s done he tosses it into the corner of the tent and looks down at the space they have, uncertain. 

“Wherever, John,” Arthur mumbles, a bit sleepy now, seeing the hesitation. 

“Should we put our drawers back on at least?” John asks hoarsely. 

“You shy now?”

John huffs and barely stops himself from pouting then looks at Charles who nods at him to lay next to Arthur. 

Then Charles lays on his other side and John’s sandwiched between the older men’s warmth again, feeling more than a little happy. 

There’s a rolling _content_ in his chest at Arthur not being at his throat for every mistake, at getting to see a different side of Charles. 

At how soft the older men are with each other, and have been with him. 

He turns his face and leans his cheek against Charles’ shoulder. 

Charles, in response, turns towards him and gathers him up, facing John towards Arthur and pulling him back against his chest. 

Arthur snorts and rolls his eyes. 

“You finally got someone who’ll cuddle with you after,” Arthur mumbles. 

“You love it,” Charles mumbles behind John’s head and Arthur turns onto his side, mouth open like he’s gonna argue. 

Then he pauses, softening, looking at John and Charles wrapped up in each other. 

Arthur shifts closer and slides one arm over both younger men’s sides, settling down with John against his chest, Charles’ back under his palm. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

**Author's Note:**

> [charthur week tumblr](https://charthurweek.tumblr.com)   
>  [charthur week twitter](https://twitter.com/CharthurWeek)   
>  [my tumblr](https://providentialeyes.tumblr.com)   
>  [horny twitter](https://www.twitter.com/swampslip)


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